“The Miracle that Would not Stay Lost…” ©2005

By Dee-Dee Diamond

Yearly, Anna Armellino makes the pilgrimage to St. Gennaro’s Church, on Mulberry Street, in Little Italy. There she’ll donate, and leave with blessed St. Gennaro medals, one for each treasured soul in her life.

One is for my husband, Arthur, since they are close, childhood friends. Also, Arthur travels for business, thru the USA, and Europe. This why she stresses he must keep it on him, (to keep him safe).

We know that he carries a small group of unrelated miniature talismans, in his pants pocket like a cloisonne “Hand of Faith” from Israel, a charm plastic fish from his only granddaughter, and 3 lucky coins. This blessed medal was added to the mix.

As is Arthur’s habit, each night as he undresses, he places them in a neat pile on his nightstand. This ritual went on for least 15 years. Eventually the medal got so worn thru time, from rubbing it, with his other items for good fortune, that it barely showed an image of the Saint.

One fateful night…the medal itself was gone!

He and his family looked everywhere for it. Arthur was crazed and missed his medal so. When Anna heard of his distress, she made the trek to the church, from faraway, to get him another one.

Anna got him a brand-new one… but it was never the same for him.

Years, and businesses went by, and as he was getting on in age, he had stopped travelling on European trips, for textile designs. Instead, he chose to work locally with a US sales rep, from Italy, with sample fabric swatches sent to him. These were for his garment center clothing manufacturing business.

After a while Arthur’s company got bought out by a larger firm, but it was with the stipulation, that he travels with their textile people to introduce them, (personally), to his special Italian resources one… last time.

Off to Milan, he & the team flew. He made a business/ social appointment with a textile mill owner. My husband had not seen this gent, in years. They arrived early for the scheduled time.

The gentleman Giuseppe Conte rushes out of his meeting, to warmly hug and say “Hello” to his old friend Arthur. “Please Arturo wait in my private office”.

Giuseppe gracefully led him, arm in arm to invite him to sit in his big, ornate arm- chair, at his desk. “I’ll be with you in just a few minutes… forgive me.” He would quickly conclude a sale with his present showroom customer.

So, Arthur sat at his friend’s desk, awaiting his turn with Giuseppe.

While he is smiling about his fond memories with this charming man, he is absentmindedly playing with paperclips in a small bowl, on Giuseppe’s huge Oriental desk.

His heart stopped, shivers ran up his spine, and goose pimples covered his arms. A bolt of the supernatural shot thru his fingers as they connected with his long, lost, old St. Genaro’s medal. Yes, the exact one from Mulberry Street in Little Italy.

How did this precious part of his pocket good luck pieces find its way, into Giuseppe’s bowl (in Milan)?

When Giuseppe returned to his private office, a visibly shaken Arthur shared his discovery amongst the clips and its tale with him.

“Oh, that old thing! I even forgot it was in there…for years, or I would have thrown it out!” Giuseppe was taken back.

“B-but how did my medal get here?” Arthur was shaking his head in disbelief.

“Arturo drink a Scotch with me…as we savior this miracle”.

Giuseppe now recalled that he was washing his auto, ages ago, in his building’s garage, and found it under a car rug. He couldn’t imagine where it came from. He threw it in the paper clips deep bowl, when he got to work, that day and completely forgot about it. Now both men with tears in their eyes stare at the almost blank grey, metal disc.

Holy Smokes!

It seems more than a decade before, on a trip to Italy, while working in this show room, Arthur got so entrenched in his designing, that when he glanced at his watch, he panicked.

He was due to leave immediately for the airport which was quite a ride away. (This was for his flight back home to New York City).

Giuseppe good-naturally gave him a hasty ride to the airport.

Probably Arthur when hurriedly going thru his pants for lire to tip the skycap, unknowingly dropped the medal silently, between the soft car carpet and the auto’s door.

This true story is told at St. Gennaro’s Church, Anna’s holiday dinners we share, and in Giuseppe ‘s home in Milan.